I never know where you are —In the Alps, Himalayas’, Europe, or in the mountains of New Hampshire? I miss you, your stories, and the personal footnotes of the un-condensed adventures;how you accepted them, good or bad, and passed through them. So quiet and shy in your beautiful observations —yet bold and independent in your actions.

I hope you are well, happy, and peaceful in India; a beautiful country made more beautiful —welcoming your presence.

I adjusted the volume

—nothing

I went to the settings

—no adjustment required.

Suggested, I plug them in

And printed,

Did you find this helpful?

Yes, I knew I should be grocery shopping

*****

A Writer’s Confession:

As a writer, I may not necessarily write about my own personal experiences.

Although they influence perception and understanding, they often are not themselves; the words that are written. They are only reflections of me as a writer.

My characters are in constant flux… as I… also see and feel my way through each moment—

experiencing what others and what I see, and what is being seen —what we universally have in common ambiguity. Often I am just a humble hapless observer making it written into words as only it could be, from the source of a perceptive and creative writer.